


singularity

by azurephil (orphan_account)



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-29 03:21:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17195546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/azurephil
Summary: Dan catches sight of his reflection in one of the mirrors on the wall. Perfectly-fitted black suit, tailored to fit him just right. Meticulously-styled hair, each curl falling flawlessly. Light dusting of flattering makeup on his face. He looks right at home with all the other guests at this vapid party.He wants to run his face under a faucet and wash it off. Maybe rip off his £300 tie, throw it to the ground and stomp on it.





	singularity

**Author's Note:**

> first of all just wanna say this is my first foray into Actual Smut so pls be gentle dshgkdfjh
> 
> pretty much exclusively listened to singularity by bts while writing this (also stigma and airplane pt. 2). it's not like?? a super happy song but it inspired the mood for this fic
> 
> the setting for the ballroom is something like [this](http://www.ritzcarlton.com/en/hotels/colorado/bachelor-gulch/meetings/meeting-room-details/the-ritz-carlton-ballroom) but with dimmer lights.

An overwhelming aroma of champagne and woodsy cologne wafts through the air as soon as Dan enters the room. The massive mahogany door leading in closes behind him with a thud he can only faintly hear over the buzzing of noise around him. The lights are yellow-toned and dimmed, glowing faintly from chandeliers and wall fixtures. Amber-painted walls framed by dark chocolate wood make the room seem hazier, more snug.

He can hardly squeeze past the warm bodies littering the ballroom. There are tables, but everyone is standing, speaking to each other over the thrum of whatever bass-heavy R&B song is playing. They may as well all be wearing blank masks, speaking in a language Dan doesn’t know for all he cares. He says “excuse me” for the fifth time—not that anyone responds to him—and makes his way across the room to the refreshments table. He picks up a champagne flute from the gold-embroidered, pristine white tablecloth and brings it to his lips.

The sickly sweet perfume of the flower arrangements on every table mingles with the smell of cologne and alcohol and makes his head spin. _I’m sure this won’t help,_ he thinks, sipping his drink. Or maybe it will, if it’ll help him forget where he is for a bit.

Dan catches sight of his reflection in one of the mirrors on the wall. Perfectly-fitted black suit, tailored to fit him just right. Meticulously-styled hair, each curl falling flawlessly. Light dusting of flattering makeup on his face. He looks right at home with all the other guests at this vapid party.

He wants to run his face under a faucet and wash it off. Maybe rip off his £300 tie, throw it to the ground and stomp on it.

It was Dan’s dream since he was a very young boy to be an actor, to be successful and on the big screen. He’s fulfilled that dream, and it’s mostly everything he could have imagined. He never imagined events like this, though. Soirée after soirée, endless glasses of champagne and the eternal chatter of people who open their mouths without having anything of importance to say.

When it all began, and his career had started taking off, he’d relished in the designer clothing he could suddenly afford. Now, it seems less like something special and more like an expectation. If he’s not wearing a shirt worth more than most people’s monthly rent at one of these events, he’ll be looked down on. It makes his stomach roll with disgust.

He turns away from his reflection to a woman who’s placed her hand on his arm. She flashes her unnaturally white teeth at him, strokes her delicate hand down his bicep as she comments on his latest film role. He gives her a tight smile and thanks her before slipping away. He knows she doesn’t really give a shit about his acting. That’s what they all do—try to get close for their own ulterior motives, to further their own careers. Dan’s endured enough schmoozing and mingling to pick out the wolves in sheep’s clothing.

He’s thankful for tonight’s venue. The darkness and cramped space make it easier for Dan to blend in. He’s really too introverted for this kind of thing, honestly. But he’s expected to show up, and show up he does. Showing up is about _all_ he does.

He gives up shuffling past silhouettes for now and leans against the nearest wall. His champagne flute is almost empty. He glares at it in annoyance, dreading the idea of making his way back to the refreshments. Draining the last drop of his drink, he lets his head fall back and his eyes slip shut, sighing.

Not thirty seconds passes before he feels his empty glass being plucked out of his hand and replaced with another, full one. Dan’s eyes fly open and he stutters out a “thank you” to the figure in front of him, the stranger who’d gotten him another drink.

His eyes adjust to the low light once more, and he sucks in a breath when he can finally make out the stranger’s face. His cheekbones are sharp and high, his jet black hair swept back into a quiff. His eyes are a striking blue, framed by glasses that flatter his face immensely. His midnight blue suit jacket makes those eyes pop even more. He’s smirking, but it doesn’t look predatory, just amused.

“You looked a little down about your drink,” he says, and _fuck_ his voice is low and gorgeous, “so I got you another one.” He gestures to the still-full flute in Dan’s hand. Dan’s been too stunned to even take a sip. The stranger’s eyes are full of mirth at his confusion.

“Right,” Dan manages to choke out. He’s blushing, and it’s not the champagne. “Just hate squeezing past all these people, you know.” The stranger nods.

“Tell me about it,” he groans, rolling his eyes. The corners of Dan’s mouth quirk up. _Yeah, this guy’s not one of the wolves._

“I’m Dan,” he says.

“Oh, I know.” Dan’s eyebrows shoot up. “What? I’ve seen your work. I’m Phil,” the stranger outstretches his hand for Dan to shake.

Dan racks his brain to try and remember if he knows of any Phils in the industry. Obviously, this (very attractive) guy knows who he is, and Dan doesn’t want to be rude.

“Oh!” Dan perks up, recalling the name of an up-and-coming director. “Phil Lester? You directed that one horror film…”

“ _The Hand_ , yeah,” Phil says. He ducks his head and grins sheepishly.

The bass of the song playing beats in Dan’s veins as he sips his champagne; the tinkle of piano keys cuts through the room and rolls along his skin. He lifts his eyes to Phil as he drinks from the glass, looking up through his lashes at him. “I loved it, you know. Are you working on anything else?” he asks.

A group of people all laugh that fake, _ha-ha_ laugh Dan’s grown so accustomed to hearing at these godforsaken functions. They shuffle closer to where Dan and Phil are stood, raising their voices to excitedly chat about the frivolous bullshit they love so much.

“Well, I’ve got this new project—” Phil starts, but Dan can’t really hear him, now.

“Sorry, what? I can’t hear you,” he says. He figures Phil will just speak a little louder to be heard over the constant buzz of noise in the room. He doesn’t expect Phil to step closer, right into his bubble. Dan likes his personal space, usually. He can’t find it in himself to care right now.

Phil’s eyes aren’t just blue, they’re a multitude of colors. There’s a stripe of brown where the roots of his hair are showing, and he smells like something sweeter than the musk of men’s fragrances that permeate the air. Like candy, or berries—some delectable concoction that Dan wouldn’t mind tasting.

Someone pushes past Phil and bumps him right into Dan’s chest. Dan lifts his champagne flute to avoid spilling it all over him, and stares with wide eyes at Phil’s face inches from his own. Phil’s braced himself with one hand on Dan’s chest and the other on his arm, pressed right up against him. Phil lets out a cute, breathy little laugh, his eyes flickering up and down Dan’s face. He pulls back, running the tips of his fingers down Dan’s shirt for a long moment before letting go. He stays, though, very close to Dan. Close enough that Dan can still smell him, feel Phil’s breath on his face.

“I’ve got another film in the works,” Phil murmurs. The singer on the track that’s playing complements him, their voice low and airy just like Phil’s. Dan can feel his eyelids droop; he knows he’s staring half-lidded, but in this dark, buzzing room, air so thick it takes his breath away, he feels like it’s unavoidable.

“What’s it about?” Dan manages to whisper back. Phil grins.

“It’s a romance,” he says, “between a painter and an author. They find themselves through each other, and create works of art inspired by one another.”

Dan brings a hand to his heart. “Aw. That’s totally different from _The Hand_ , then. I would have thought you’d stick to the horror genre.” Phil shrugs.

“The world needs more love in it,” he says, and Dan isn’t sure if his voice could drop any deeper. Those captivating eyes fall to Dan’s lips again. _Fuck it, what have I got to lose._

“It’s still pretty loud in here.” Dan downs the rest of his champagne, lets Phil watch his throat bob. He sets the flute aside on the nearest surface. “Maybe I’d be able to hear you better if we…stepped out.” He runs a hand through the curls on his head, not giving a single shit about the way his hair was carefully styled before this party. He watches Phil watch him; he savors that electric blue gaze, the way it focuses with laser precision on his bottom lip when he bites it.

“Lead the way,” Phil whispers to him, and Dan grabs his hand.

Dan doesn’t know which way he’s going, and honestly, he doesn’t care if they’re not heading for the main exit. As long as he has this man alone tonight.

It’s uncharacteristic of him, to say the least. He’s never felt an immediate attraction like this, especially not at one of these insipid soirées. But he’s on edge tonight, at the end of his rope with all of this. He planned on just drinking his way through the night until he forgot where he was, but Phil—Phil is a much better distraction.

They slip through the crowd, hand in hand. Dan grips onto Phil’s palm tightly when another group of people next to them laughs loudly. _They sound like fucking hyenas_ , he gripes internally. Finally, they reach a door bathed in shadow at the back of the room. Stepping through the threshold, Dan knows they haven’t left the building.

It’s a dimly-lit hallway, darker than the main room. A single chandelier hangs above their heads and rattles the slightest bit when Phil closes the door behind them.

“Don’t think anyone will bother us here,” Phil says, softly. He looks at Dan differently now that they’re alone and out of that hazy ballroom. “You were uncomfortable in there.”

Dan snorts. “What gave _that_ away?”

“Hmm, I’d say you drinking alone up against the wall was a pretty good clue.” He’s smiling, and joking along with Dan, but his eyes are serious. “I mean, I figured you wouldn’t be into the whole party thing. You’re not exactly known for having tons of friends.”

“Ouch.” Dan winces.

“N-not like that’s bad! I’m not either, I guess. Introvert problems, you know,” Phil says with a shrug, and Dan feels a tiny little hammer hack away at the ice encircling his heart.

“Yeah, I know,” he murmurs. It’s probably the first time since his career took off that he’s felt…not alone. Phil’s sweet, and introverted, and attractive, and Dan’s head is swimming.

The song in the main room changes to something a little less ambient, the beat picking up. It’s soulful, and slow, but the brass and piano make Dan want to dance. He’s not a great dancer, but no one’s here except for Phil. He stretches his hand out to him. Phil stares at it, dumbfounded.

“Dance with me?” Dan asks. Phil giggles.

“I’m a terrible dancer,” he says.

“So am I. You want to dance or what?” Phil fully laughs, his tongue poking out between his teeth, and grabs Dan’s hand.

Dan pulls him forward until they’re chest to chest again. He places his hands on Phil’s waist as Phil wraps his arms around Dan’s neck. Their noses brush and Dan grins, swaying them from side to side. It’s then that he notices Phil’s legs are awkwardly far apart.

“Why is your stance so wide?” he whispers, giggling. Phil blushes and shuffles his feet closer together.

“Shut up, I told you I’m terrible,” Phil whines. Dan just shakes his head, tucks his nose into Phil’s shoulder. After about a minute, he can hear the muffled melody pick up even more through the walls. Silently, Dan pulls back from the warmth of Phil’s body and slides his hands up Phil’s arms around his neck. He takes Phil’s hands and spins both of them around to the beat of the song, Phil’s laugh echoing through the empty corridor.

They’re both sweating through their expensive dress shirts, and they’ve both stepped on each other’s feet at least twice, but it’s the most fun Dan’s had in a long time. The song slows down eventually, and Phil pulls Dan back to him. Clumsy as he is, Dan stumbles and pushes Phil against the wall separating them from the main room. Lined up chest to chest, he can feel the vibration of the bass through Phil. The next song is softer and slower, but it still vibrates through the wall and between them.

Phil’s hands slide down from Dan’s waist to his hips, treacle-slow. His pale fingers dance across Dan’s hips, stroking gently against his shirt under his suit jacket. Dan runs his hands up Phil’s chest to cup his face. He runs a thumb along Phil’s jaw as they stare at one another in the quiet. It really is dark, save for the single chandelier high up on the ceiling. The walls are painted a deep, dark burgundy, the tiles on the ground practically black. At this moment, though it’s dark, unfamiliar, and quiet, Dan can’t imagine anywhere else he’d rather be.

Phil tugs Dan’s hips against his own and kisses him.

The first kiss is chaste, almost, like Phil’s testing the waters. But he tastes as sweet as he smells, and Dan can’t get enough. He slides one hand back to Phil’s chest, the other up into his hair, and bites down on his bottom lip. Phil gasps and Dan licks into his mouth, shifts his hips up into Phil’s. Phil’s hands move to his bum at some point, groping as their kissing grows more heated and desperate.

Dan isn’t sure what’s going through his mind when he sinks to his knees in front of Phil. Evidently, Phil isn’t sure either.

“Dan, wait wait wait,” he splutters. “We can’t, there’s literally a party full of people—”

“They’re not going to come in here,” Dan murmurs against the bulge in Phil’s trousers. It makes Phil shudder, which sends a thrill through Dan from his head to his toes.

“They might.” It’s a weak protest, but still a protest.

“Do you not want to?” Dan asks, shifting back on his heels. Phil bites his lip nervously, staring at the closed door to the right. After a moment, he lets out a frustrated little whine.

“Yeah, I want to. Really bad. You’re sure no one will come in?”

“I’m sure,” Dan says, grinning. “And anyway, the possibility is what makes it hot.” Phil just flushes a deeper shade of pink at that.

Dan leans forward again, nosing at Phil’s dress pants where the clear shape of him juts out. He mouths around it from base to tip, inhaling the musky scent. Phil’s hand pets through his hair and he glances up at him, smirking. There’s a desperate look on Phil’s face, whether from arousal or fear of being caught Dan isn’t sure, but it spurs him on to unzip Phil’s trousers.

He reaches beneath the waistband of Phil’s pants and pulls out his cock. Dan feels his mouth water looking at it, long and flushed a dark red. He breathes on it, hot and heavy, making it twitch. He grins, licking up the drop of precum gathered at the tip. Phil grips his hair and Dan gasps.

“Get on with it,” Phil hisses, “…please.” Dan snorts at his politeness, but does as he says.

He drags his tongue along the length of him before taking the head in his mouth.

“God, Dan,” Phil moans when he sucks. Dan bobs his head a few times before sinking further down. “What the hell am I doing?” he breathes out. Dan hums around him questioningly. “I didn’t expect tonight to go…like this.”

Dan pulls off of him quickly, a thin string of spit bridging the gap between his lips and the tip of Phil’s dick. He smiles up at Phil, knowing full well the sight of him, flushed lips and dilated pupils on the ground, will only turn him on more.

“I didn’t expect it either,” Dan says, sticking his tongue out to give Phil’s head a few kitten licks. “But I’d say this exceeds my expectations, wouldn’t you?” The bass is still beating steadily through the wall. He can definitely hear people talking in the main room. It makes this stolen moment in the near-darkness feel all the filthier. Filthy, but not wrong. It feels so right to grab the base of Phil’s cock with one hand and guide it back into his mouth. He slips his mouth further and further down, until he doesn’t need to use his hand anymore. Phil’s head tips back and hits the wall the moment he hits the back of Dan’s throat.

“ _Jesus_ , Dan,” Phil groans. At some point, while Dan bobs his head, Phil’s hand finds its way back into his hair and latches on. It makes Dan whine, makes him rub a hand over his own erection. Phil’s breathing so heavily, the muscles in his arms and thighs tensing. Dan can’t see his skin, he’s still wearing a suit, but he feels it when he runs his hands up Phil’s legs and the hand in his hair grips a little tighter.

“I can’t— _ah_ —Dan,” he whimpers, falling apart above Dan, at his fingertips. Dan pulls back, sucking hard as he goes. His tongue dances around the head of Phil’s cock, licks into the slit, and Phil gasps. His entire body tenses, going rigid as he comes into Dan’s mouth. Dan half expects it to taste sweet like the rest of Phil, but he won’t complain about the saltiness that spills down his tongue instead.

Dan barely has a moment to swallow before Phil is yanking him up from the ground and flipping them around; he pins Dan against the wall and kisses him fiercely. Distantly, Dan is aware that his clothes are wrinkled and his hair is an absolute mess. That doesn’t matter right now. He _wants_ Phil to mess him up, wants to be thrown around and manhandled. He doesn’t want to look crisp and clean-cut at every given moment, like some lifeless doll his stylists can play dress-up with.

Phil unzips Dan’s trousers and slips his hand into Dan’s pants to grasp his aching cock. Dan sighs, deflating at the tension he’s been holding in for a while. Phil can probably tell he’s worked up, the way he slumps against the wall and cants his hips up when Phil twists his wrist just right. Phil pulls it out of Dan’s pants after a few minutes and Dan moans at the shock of cool air.

“Wanted to see you,” Phil murmurs, nipping at his neck. Dan grips at his shoulders for leverage and cries out as Phil swipes his thumb over the deeply flushed head of his dick. It’s wet, and throbbing—Dan’s not going to last another minute.

He groans loudly—almost too loudly—spurting white streaks up onto his black, designer suit jacket. Phil smashes his lips into Dan’s, most likely to shut him up, but it’s intoxicating to run his tongue along the roof of Phil’s mouth as he rides out the aftershocks. Phil helps tuck him back into his pants, which Dan is most certainly not about to do himself. He feel completely boneless, his eyes still closed and little shivers still racing through his skin.

“Oh god, your suit,” Phil says. Dan cracks an eye open to survey the damage and cringes.

“Ooh, yikes. Definitely can’t go back out there now.” He peers down the dark hallway. The glow of an exit sign is just barely visible at the very end of it. Phil follows his eyes and spots it as well.

“That might have been useful before we literally had sex next to a room full of people,” he says dryly.

“Maybe, but a hell of a lot less fun. Do you want to get out of here?” Dan asks. He extends a hand to Phil, who takes it with a shy smile.

“Yeah. These parties suck.”

**Author's Note:**

> i was just writing this for funsies but then i hit 100 followers on tumblr which was very exciting! so this is also sort of a "thank you for 100 followers" thing. you can find me over there at [azurephil](https://azurephil.tumblr.com/) :3c


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